


What Lies Beneath the Waves

by ebonpyre



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (but i don't know shit about fishing so please forgive me for inaccuracies), AU, F/F, Fishing, Mutual Pining, Selkie AU, Slow Burn, will add tags as necessary - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonpyre/pseuds/ebonpyre
Summary: Terezi's monotonous routine as a seaside fisherman is suddenly upended when she brings in a girl from the sea.or, my self-indulgent Vrisrezi selkie AU.
Relationships: Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	What Lies Beneath the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a while back, but I only have one finished chapter so far. I figured I might as well post it to give myself some motivation to keep writing.
> 
> I love Vrisrezi, and in my humble opinion, there is a striking lack of content for it in the fandom.
> 
> let's go lesbians

There was always a sort of call to the sea. The sharp smell of salt and fish drew one in like a siren’s song, and the promise of that vast blue openness beyond the sand and foam was enough to drag nearly anyone to the shore. The ocean bore life and death, promise and ruin. It kissed the lives of any who drew near with a vow of prosperity, but it also had the power to maim and kill with a violent and unflinching hand. Nature would forge empires of fortune, just to knock them down and scatter the shards in the ground like seeds of hope.

Along a rocky gray isle hugged by the sea, the ocean supplied a humble village with all the things needed to survive happily. Fish and trade aplenty was brought in by the waves, keeping the people thriving and well.

One such man, however, left his only daughter on a stormy night to return to the beach in hopes of finding enough fish to keep his remaining family afloat. Grief-stricken after the death of his wife, the once-revered fisherman had lost his skill. He had not reeled in a proper catch in weeks. Refusing to let his daughter suffer any longer, he resolved to go out at whatever hour necessary to finally catch any amount of food that he could.

The choppy seas that had kept him alive for as long as he could remember were his demise that night. Beneath the dusty coal skies, he still rests today under the waves on the seafloor, along with his beloved fishing boat.

His daughter was left with only herself to rely on. Never one to give up and submit to her fate, she stayed in the seaside house that was once a family home. She had grown up learning to fish like her father. Now, she decided, was the time at which she was to inherit his legacy.

Years passed, and she had made a living for herself selling what gifts the sea brought her to the people of the nearby town. Although she was — like her father — staying afloat, she did long for more at times. Initially, she had been content with working to be even better at fishing than her late father. But this life had sedated her into a rhythm: a repetitive, monotonous rhythm that led her feet along the same path every day. She wanted more, but did not know how to strive for anything else.

So she stayed, gathering fish from the waters where her father’s body lay, telling herself that one day she would be able to escape. One day, she would find somewhere else to go. That was her goal. And Terezi Pyrope never left a goal unaccomplished.

-

The marketplace was always a stark contrast to the soothing lull of the waves upon the beach. A cacophony of unusual sounds clashed with deluges of strange smells, conducting a sort of chaotic symphony that slammed directly into Terezi’s face every time she stepped near. She didn’t mind, though; in fact, she embraced it. It was unpredictable, a welcome change from every other aspect of her life. Unpredictable as it was, though, the discordance was just as unsurprising as the fine sand beneath her toes on the shore. One could not enter the market without expecting that familiar flood.

Terezi held the overfilled basket of fish in one steady hand, her whittled-pine cane in the other. Over the course of the past few years, she had tread the path to the stand at which she always set up so many times that she would be surprised if, at some point, she hadn’t gotten up and walked there in her sleep. The smooth, worn stones were familiarly uneven beneath her sandaled feet. The basket swung precariously. Terezi knew it would never fall.

The heavy, woven basket made a loud, satisfying noise as she dropped it on the stand. Terezi leaned forwards, propping her elbows up on the wooden surface. Her whole family had been famous for fishing; the passersby knew by now to expect her right here at this very spot every day at the crack of dawn.

Grinning into the crowd, she waited for the first person to be lured in by the scent and the presumably awe-inspiring sight of her stock. It did not take long before she heard a gruff voice from the other side of her stand, accompanied by the squelching sound of two fish being set down (in an unintentionally harsh manner, in Terezi’s humble opinion) on the stand.

“How much for two ‘a these?”

Terezi contemplated, pursing her lips. She reached out to feel the fish that this man had selected. They were considerably large, likely the most impressive fruit of her catch yesterday. She turned her head up to face his voice. “Five pieces each. I’ll take ten.”

She was met with a beat of silence. “Ten for two fish?” A raucous jingling noise filled the air as he fished out his coins. “Will you take eight?”

“I’ll take ten.” Unflinching, Terezi maintained the plastered smile on her face, daring him to challenge her again. She never let customers haggle with her prices. If she was to remain trapped pulling fish from the sea for a living, she was at least going to profit from it.

The man sighed, wordlessly handing over two coins. He took the fish, muttering a quiet thanks. Terezi rolled the money over in her hand, feeling the size and weight. At least this customer had given her the correct payment. Some thought they could outsmart her, giving her the wrong coins and assuming she wouldn’t notice. Terezi snorted out a bitter laugh to herself, recalling those memories. What idiot wouldn’t know a five-piece coin from a one-piece? They were vastly different in shape.

“I’d like to buy just one, please.” A soft, nervous voice broke her out of her thoughts. It came from below, just at the same level as her low stand. Likely a child. Terezi sat upright to serve the rest of her customers, falling into the same routine that she did every day.

It was just another day.

-

Terezi’s basket had emptied completely by midday, forcing her to pack up early. She grinned subtly to herself as she emptied her earnings from the day into a cloth bag. Perhaps she could buy something from one of the nearby vendors today. Placing the satchel of coins in her vacant basket, she seized her cane and stood up, immediately melting into the crowd.

Terezi didn’t have any particular shop or item in mind. She just walked through the square, waiting for an eager salesperson to advertise their fruit or tools or whatever they had in stock today.

She did pick up a hefty pumpkin from a woman who seemed a bit too excited about her crop. To be fair, it was a massive pumpkin. Perhaps Terezi could find some use for it later. She could attempt to cook something nice to treat herself.

But other than that, nothing else had caught her eye (so to speak). Terezi decided that one massive pumpkin weighing down her basket would be enough, and began to head back home.

On her way out, however, a man stopped her with a shout.

She turned, stepping cautiously towards him. She could hear the smile in his voice as he clutched her arm, voice shifting startlingly into a whisper.

“Oh, young lady, you simply  _ must  _ try on this coat. It’s guaranteed to keep you warm even in the most  _ dreadful  _ weather, yes!” Hastily, he hauled her over to his stand. Terezi slowly dislodged her arm from his grip, wondering if it was worth it to wait out his speech or if she should just slip away right now.

“Well then,” she sighed in response. “Show me this miraculous coat.” The salesman jumped at the chance. Even before Terezi finished speaking, she had a sudden weight in her hands, warm with the burden of its fur. It really was soft; although this man was almost definitely exaggerating, there was some element of truth to his word.

Typically, Terezi made a point not to fall for the schemes of eager salespeople trying to convince her to spend her earnings on overpromoted goods. However, she had extra weight in her pocket today, and she just happened to be in a good mood. Pulling out a handful of coins to give the man, she draped the fur coat over her free arm.

“Don’t think I won’t come back for a refund when I freeze!” she called over her shoulder as she walked away. The vendor shouted something in response, but Terezi didn’t quite hear it. She had her hands quite full with her pumpkin-weighted basket and cane in one hand and her rare impulse purchase in the other.

The air grew tense and heavy with the smell of coming rain as she made her way back. Although the sun had been beating down on the street no more than an hour ago, the quickly forming clouds had chased that warmth away and filled its space with a tense chill.

Terezi set down her basket in the sand, wincing as the oversized vegetable inside thunked against a rock. Hopefully, it was resilient enough not to be too bruised. Shaking her head to clear it of gourd-related concerns, she slung her new coat over her shoulders. The fur warmed her almost immediately. Pulling it close around her body, Terezi picked up her basket and set off again at a slightly more relaxed pace.

-

The rain had rolled right off of her new coat like streamwater off the scales of a fish. Terezi made a mental note to postpone her smug return to the man who sold it to her. It had kept her warm and dry.

What she didn’t anticipate was that the coat, when wet, smelled. Very much so.

Sighing, Terezi lumbered through the door, weighed down by the massive load she was carrying. She set her basket down on the rickety table in the center of the room.

The coat quickly came off, dripping spots of water on her floor. For lack of a better place to put it, Terezi decided to leave it for later in a chest by her bed. The lock managed to stifle the smell just enough.

She settled for a simple meal of toast and tea, neglecting the pumpkin on her table. One would assume that she would have a plentiful supply of fish to cook, but if she was being completely honest with herself, Terezi had lost her appetite for fish after spending the majority of her life dealing with them. Toast would do. Perhaps eating only bread for a meal was slightly sad, but it wasn’t as if Terezi was trying to impress anyone. There was a time at which she would have overanalyzed this decision, maybe even becoming concerned about herself; now, however, she just settled into the routine, just like in every other aspect of her life.

She sliced the bread with a practiced motion, lazily brewing a single cup of chamomile tea—it wasn’t her favorite, but it was the only kind she had. It smelled flowery, almost uncomfortably so. It was as if the flowers were rooting themselves deep in her sinuses. They grabbed hold of her insides, not outright uncomfortable but digging in just enough to feel like blunt, softened talons. Talons that were harmless the first dozen times, but the thirteenth scratch was finally enough to draw a single bead of blood. It was just tolerable. She shouldn’t complain. Chamomile was perfectly fine.

Rain pattered against the window, a thundering drumbeat. It had picked up in strength quite a lot in only a matter of minutes.

Terezi didn’t like storms. Storms transformed the sea into a choppy mess, the same force that had ripped her father out of her arms that night. Storms meant violent flashes of lightning over the spot where his boat had fallen beneath the waves. Storms meant howling wind that rattled the walls and seemed to speak in a haunting, wordless roar.

No, Terezi didn’t like storms.

She distracted herself by spreading cold butter over the nearly forgotten slice of bread on the counter. She had planned to toast it, but couldn’t really be bothered to. Perhaps cold bread was even sadder of a meal than just toast. But again, she didn’t exactly have anyone to impress.

She ate in silence, lost in the drowning sounds of the sky’s assault on her window and the mind-numbing scent of chamomile swirling tauntingly around the room. Normally, she would go out fishing after she ate. Now, though, she would be staying inside. Terezi never fished in a storm.

The rain didn’t stop until nightfall. As much as she tried, Terezi couldn’t tune it out.

She only fell asleep once the sky was silent.

-

Terezi didn’t go to the marketplace the next morning; she had no wares to sell due to yesterday’s weather. Instead, she walked out to the beach, trying to push the lurking gloom from her head. She would forget it eventually. She always did, for a while at least.

Perhaps the sun would clear her mind.

She was relieved to feel the warmth on her skin. It was windy, too, intermingling the hot sun with the chilly breeze. Terezi didn’t mind. It made her feel more awake.

The air was tinged with salt. The scent of the bay was in the wind, crisp and fresh and slightly stinging. Birds’ calls echoed overhead.

The sea was not particularly rough today, although the breeze still gave it some life. Terezi felt her boat shift beneath her feet as she boarded, rocking gently with the waves even though it was still so close to the shore.

As always, she tugged on the long rope that kept her boat tied to the land. It was firmly secured. It had been since she was young. She remembered her father’s hands tying it when she was only a child. That was the day she first learned to sail.

Though the boat was tethered to the coast, it was nearly impossible to tell once on the water. The rope was long enough to allow Terezi to reach quite a formidable distance out to sea. Rather than keep her close, it ensured she would always be able to find her way back. The sea was endless. Without sensory landmarks or differences in scenery, anyone could get lost, regardless of their level of eyesight. 

Although it was admittedly intimidating to have an unpredictable expanse in front of her, Terezi craved this smallest resemblance of adventure in her life.

Grasping the wooden oars with both hands, she paddled out to sea. The water gently carried her. The small boat moved with the motion of the waves, rocking like branches on a mildly blustery day.

Once she had traveled out a reasonable distance, Terezi’s hands instinctively went through the motions that her father had shown her so long ago. Phantom hands lay over her own, guiding her movements with a firm hold.

After enough time had passed, her hands stilled, the boat soon following suit. Standing up, she threw out her large net, grinning briefly when she heard the perfect splash.

She sat down, fingers still clamped around the hand line, and waited. Although the warming sun did some work in distracting her from everything, her thoughts always crept in when she was alone with nothing to do. Which was often. Terezi did have friends, but they all had other friends, too; Terezi wasn’t their highest priority. She wasn’t the first on anyone’s list. Besides, she didn’t really have that strong of a connection with any of them.

Not like she’d had with her father.

Trailing a finger through the frigid water below, Terezi was jolted back into the haunting yet recurring knowledge that his body lay below in this very sea. Her hand shot back, cold. Stiffening with the realization that her breaths and heartbeat were quickening suddenly, Terezi laid her free palm on her chest and tried to calm herself down. The one finger that had been in the water was icy and wet, soaking water through her shirt onto the skin above her heart.

Terezi put her hand up to her face. She felt the warm pinprick of a tear on the corner of her eye, but ignored it. She was definitely ignoring that.

What was she still doing here?

Thankfully, the net gave a violent jolt that pulled at least some of Terezi’s mind away from her current state. It was more force than she had felt from a cast net in a long time, possibly  _ ever. _

Drawing in a shuddering breath, she put her free hand around the hand line and pulled, reeling the net in with both arms. If she didn’t have the muscle from all the physical labor needed in her daily life, Terezi would have been drawn in, too. This thought propelled her forward, pulling with all the strength she could muster.

The net really was giving resistance. She must have caught a lot this time.  _ This will net me a lot of cash,  _ she thought. Not that money was of any real importance anymore. It was all so superficial.

Wow, this was taking a while. She could practically hear the net screaming with insubordination. Terezi kept reeling it in.

The top of the net broke the surface, if the sudden splashing sound was anything to go by. Only a little more to go. And hey, that screaming hadn’t stopped. And it was getting louder. And it wasn’t in her head, it was piercing right into her ears —

It was real. Human screaming was coming from her net. Terezi let out a choked gasp, trying with all her might to rescue whoever had fallen into the water. She deliberately pushed all thoughts of her father from her mind. Now was  _ not _ the time.

Then the screams stopped abruptly. Chilling silence cut through the air.  _ What happened? _

The net fully broke through. Terezi hauled it into the boat with shaking hands. She smelled the metallic tang of blood in the water.

Tentatively feeling the net, she leaned forwards. Her fingers came down on wet skin. An arm. A  _ human  _ arm.

Oh no.

Gritting her teeth, Terezi paddled back to shore with more determination than she had probably ever had. She wasn’t completely sure what had just happened, but one thing was certain: she’d just reeled someone in from the depths of the sea. If this person died, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Terezi wasn’t about to lose two people to the beast that was the water.

-

The fireplace was crackling almost as loudly as the tension in the air.

The girl from the sea hadn’t woken up. She was presently lying under two woolen blankets on Terezi’s sofa, asleep.

She was breathing. But Terezi was beginning to fear she was comatose.

She had patched up the injury on the side of the girl’s head. She must have struck a rock when tangled in Terezi’s net. Terezi felt guilty. She felt  _ horrible.  _ But as she had been feeling enough guilt for the whole village that day, she decided to repress it and focus on more current, pressing matters.

Such as the unconscious person in her living room.

Terezi was sitting on the wood floor, listening restlessly to the gentle breaths beside her. She had been there for what felt like hours. She had no real concept of how long it genuinely was, though.

There was a sudden interruption in the breathing coming from the sofa. Terezi shot up, holding her breath, anxiously awaiting any sign of movement.

There was little movement; however, there was a low, sleep-ridden voice mumbling, “Where am I?”

A smile crept onto Terezi’s face. “You’re awake! You’re  _ alive _ !” She sat up on her knees. “I really didn’t think you were going to make it.”

The girl groaned. “Look… fishface. I want to know where I am, and who you are. I already know I’m  _ alive _ .”

Terezi raised an eyebrow. “You were drowning. I saved you. Although, you did hit your head pretty hard.” She pursed her lips. “Sorry about that.”

“I was  _ what _ ?” She shot straight up, flinging off the blankets and rushing to the window in a swift motion almost too quick for Terezi to process. “Where is this place? Why am I… Why was I  _ drowning _ ?”

Terezi jumped up and ran to her side, voice involuntarily raising. “I don’t know! I don’t know any more than you do!”

“ _ Who are you _ ?” she screamed. Terezi flinched slightly. She took in a long, slow breath through her teeth, gathering herself.

“Terezi. Terezi Pyrope. I fish for a living. And where are you?” She gestured with a wide motion of her arm, pointing to the scenery. “You’re in the tiniest, most  _ excruciatingly  _ normal seaside town ever to enslave a person’s life. Now  _ who _ are you?”

A beat of silence. Wind whistled through the shabby greenery outside. It was really picking up. “Vriska. My name is Vriska.”

“Vriska?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it?”

“No, I have a last name. I…” Vriska’s voice wavered, then stopped completely. She leaned against the old wood of the windowsill, which creaked softly in despair. When she spoke again, it was quiet and lost, the heat from only seconds ago evaporated. “Why can’t I remember my last name?”

Terezi stepped forward again, next to Vriska, who didn’t react. She still smelled like sea salt. “Do you remember where you’re from?”

Vriska let out an annoyed grunt. “I don’t  _ know _ !” The windowsill creaked again as she shifted position. “I can’t remember anything about how I ended up in this… situation!”

“It was just out there.” Terezi pointed at the window again. “You really were dr — ”

“Yes, I am  _ fully aware _ that I was drowning! We’ve established that!” Vriska hissed, almost animalistically. “I’ve just never… I mean, I don’t think I’d ever been drowning before.”

Terezi turned and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “That’s a strange thing to say.”

“I don’t  _ remember _ ,” Vriska reiterated. “I only remember water, and swimming, I think. I don’t think I would have been drowning. I don’t remember… ugh!” That was punctuated with a  _ thump  _ that sounded suspiciously like a fist on skin.

“Vriska.” Terezi extended an arm in the direction of the voice that had been, once again, gradually increasing in volume. Her hand ended up on Vriska’s shoulder, which tensed rigidly. “Stop trying to remember. Though I’m not an expert on the situation, I really don’t think it’s doing you any good.”

“Thanks, genius.”

“No, really. Just relax. You clearly aren’t making any progress.”  _ Continuing to panic will definitely make things worse _ , supplied the rational part of her brain which had decided to make itself present at long last. If Terezi was to find out more about this mysterious girl, she had to calm her down.

“Oh, thanks. Now I’m  _ so  _ calm.” Vriska’s voice traveled in circles around Terezi; she must have been pacing frantically around the small room. “Now I can just ignore the fact that I’m suddenly on a beach with  _ no memories _ , a strange girl who…  _ fishes _ , and I’m stuck in a house that’s musty and  _ cold as hell _ \--”

Terezi sighed. “If you’re cold, get back under the blankets. They haven’t gone anywhere.” Satisfied once she heard the sound of Vriska, after a reluctant pause, sinking into the couch again, she added, “I can make some tea if you want.”

She was met with only a quiet affirmative grumble, which was good enough for her.

Vriska was wordless as Terezi brewed the tea. While this was a simple task so familiar it had become boring, the process was somehow much less dull when Terezi was doing it for someone else. The gaudy, flowery scent seemed less uncomfortable, somehow. Perhaps this was what she needed. This could be the spark she was missing in her life. Though she didn’t believe that Vriska’s sudden appearance would magically change her life for the better —that was ridiculous—she did wonder…

“Would you like to stay with me for a while? At least until we find out more about your… situation?”

If the silence was anything to go by, Terezi’s question had taken Vriska by surprise. It dragged on for enough uneasy moments that Terezi cleared her throat and spoke up again. “I mean—you should. Stay with me, I mean. You have nowhere else to go. And unless you have another plan, you are going to let me give you shelter in this—”

“Yeah, okay.” Vriska’s voice was quiet, but the words were unmistakably clear. “I’ll stay here.”

Terezi grinned softly to herself, grabbing the teapot. “That’s what I thought. Now here.” Tracing the rim of a teacup to locate it, she flicked her wrist and poured the steaming, floral liquid. Grabbing it in one hand, she walked over to the couch and bent down, outstretching her arm. “Drink up.”

Vriska tentatively sipped the tea, then flinched back, coughing. “ _ Fuck _ , it’s hot!”

Terezi chuckled, standing up straight again. “Have you never had a hot drink?”

A low, guttural growl rose from Vriska’s throat. “I really thought we’d established that my memories aren’t reliable right now. Like, at all. Don’t ask me  _ shit _ about what I have and haven’t done.”

Terezi shrugged, turning away but not bothering to wipe the smile from her face. “It’s just too bad your first tea was this flowery mess.”

“It’s not  _ that _ bad.”

“I’m a bit biased.”

A loud, dramatic sigh came from the other side of the room. “Seriously. It might even be considered  _ good  _ if it didn’t, like… melt your tongue off.”

Terezi poured another cup for herself, sitting down opposite this strange girl as she drank her own tea. It really didn’t taste as bad today.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many chapters this will be. I do have a rough plot planned out, though, so there WILL be a tiny bit of order here.
> 
> We'll see.


End file.
